


Pyrrha In Roanapur

by Flexor



Category: Black Lagoon, RWBY
Genre: Implicit Sexual References, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 09:53:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12318636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flexor/pseuds/Flexor
Summary: Recently, I found out that in their respective Japanese dubs, Pyrrha and Revy are voiced by the same voice actress, Megumi Toyoguchi. I don't need much encouragement to do a crossover.Pyrrha Nikos has died, and gone... not to Heaven, but to Roanapur. Very much not to Heaven, then. She walks into the Yellowflag Inn. The first one she meets is a rather unsavoury man who solicits her to intimacy. The next one she meets is Revy.It all goes downhill from there...Rated M for language, Two-hands.Language!(Oh by the way, I am still planning my massive Fic-50 crossover extravaganza, but I had to write this. I can count one fic and its podcast as one, can't I?)





	Pyrrha In Roanapur

**Author's Note:**

> Now that we're here, is anyone who comes this far going to RTX London? I'll be there, sporting a Pumpkin Pete Cereal Hoodie, a guitar, and my young son. If there's any mileage in organising a meetup, or a Birds-Offa-Feather thing, let me know in the comments.

Roanapur. Home of a hundred thousand souls, each one blackened, tainted in its own special way. From a distance at night, the lights are almost pretty, until you think of what every one of those lights could shine on. Drugs. Weapons. Prostitutes. Religious fanatics selling salvation out of the back of a car. Pain. Death.

There are two ways in and out of this city. First is the harbour, where incoming vessels are greeted by the faceless Buddha statue. It no longer sees, no longer cares, who pulls into port. The second way is by road. The sign that points to this city is flaked and bleached in the sun. If you know where you're going, you will know your turn-off. If you don't, you're better off staying on the motorway. The unnamed road to Roanapur ends in a bridge. On the middle of the bridge, untouched by the city lights, a young woman stands still, looking up at the hangman's noose that dangles from the bridge support. Nobody remembers who put it there. A warning maybe against what lies ahead. A little breeze picks up and plays with the woman's long dark red ponytail. At her feet lie a spear and a shield. She takes deep breaths, smells the sea as the wind carries it inland. Another life. Another chance. A fresh start in a place that is not wholesome at all, at all.

There is a sudden splash of light and the braying of a car horn. The woman leaps into the air, flips over the roof of the car that sways from side to side, then continues on its way. She steadies herself. She holds out her arms. Spear and shield leap into her hands and she slings them on her back. After one more look at the hangman's noose, Pyrrha Nikos crosses the bridge and breaks into a run. 

* * *

 

At the edge of town, near the docks, there is a bar named the Yellow Flag. In the international marine codes, a yellow flag stands for the letter Q. The Q stands for quarantine. A ship flying the yellow flag is signalling to all who can see that an infectious disease rages on board. It's a warning to stay away. The Yellow Flag inn has seen more than its share of death. It's a place where the lowest of the low come to drink. Pyrrha opens the door, and almost expects Qrow Branwen to tip his glass at her. It seems like his kind of place. But Qrow will never be here. Neither will... She stops. Neither will any of the people she knew before. Pyrrha is alone. And the city of Roanapur can devour a lone pretty young girl whole. 

 

She walks to the bar, finds an empty stool two seats away from a young woman staring fixedly into her drink. The barman notices her immediately. Pyrrha's armour, her long red hair, her weapons, the jewels she wears. They mark her as a stranger. The barman catches her eye.

"Please may I have a glass of water?" she asks.

The barman sneers at her, walks over to the tap, draws her a pint of beer. Before he puts it down in front of her, he hesitates. He well remembers another girl politely asking for water.

"You looking for trouble?"

Pyrrha shakes her head.

"I'm new here."

"No shit," says the barman, and puts down the beer. Pyrrha doesn't touch it.

"I can't pay for this," she says. "Unless you take Lien. May I have a glass of water instead?"

"What the fuck am I gonna do lady? Stick this beer back in the tap?"

"It's your beer," says Pyrrha, with a little shrug. "Do with it what you want."

"Eyy Bao." A man in a white suit is standing next to her. "Don't be such a fucking cheapskate will you? Give the lady a beer. Put it on my tab."

Barman Bao scowls at the man. "And what difference is _that_ going to make? Since when do _you_ pay your tabs, asshole?"

"Just give the pretty lady the fucking beer, _pendejo_." He turns round to Pyrrha. "These fucking gooks. Don't know how to treat a lady. I'm Gustavo. What's your name, _bella_?"

"What I would like," says Pyrrha, "Is a glass of water. Simple tap water will do. Would that be at all possible? I could just walk into the ladies room."

"You refuse my drink?" Gustavo clutches his heart. "You hurt me, pretty lady. It's very rude to refuse a kind gift. But I'll forgive you for a little kiss."

Pyrrha takes a deep breath, slowly lets it out. Her green eyes narrow at the man next to her. But before she can tell him to get lost, there is a metallic click, and Gustavo turns round to look into the barrel of a heavily customised nine millimeter pistol.

" _Jesus fuck, Two-hands!_ What the fuck?!"

The woman next to Pyrrha looks at Gustavo. Pyrrha idly notes that if she'd pull the trigger, she'd hit her as well, but 'Two-hands' doesn't strike Pyrrha as the kind of woman who cares deeply about that kind of detail. When she speaks, her voice sounds dull, bored.

"Fuck off Gustavo."

"The fuck is your problem? I was just having a conversation with the lady here."

The large caliber pistol doesn't move.

"You know as well as me how this goes. She's gonna tell you to go fuck yourself, you're gonna grab her tits, she's gonna wipe the floor with you and then your friends are gonna join in, and then one of you assholes is going to..." She moves a bit closer. "Spill. My. Drink. And you know what _that_ means don't you? For once in my life, I wanna walk into this bar, have a drink, and then walk out again without the goddamn place being on fire. So I'm telling you. Fuck off."

"Fuck you, Two-hands. Why don't we let the lady decide huh?"

Two-hands grins, points her gun up.

"Sure. Hey Lady? D'ya wanna take this asshole to the little boys room and suck his dick? You can catch herpes, syphillis, the clap, and if you're very lucky you can pick up a case of the crabs as well."

"You do make it sound tempting," Pyrrha says. "But I'm afraid I must respectfully decline."

"And there you have it, Gustavo," says Two-hands. "Now fuck off before I rip you a new asshole."

"Fuck you." Gustavo turns to Pyrrha. "We'll talk again when there's no twinkies."

"I beg to differ," says Pyrrha. "This conversation is at an end. Please go away."

Gustavo glares at Pyrrha, pulls out a gun and presses it into Pyrrha's forehead.

"You watch yourself bitch. Do you know who you're messing with? Think you can come here and disrespect me?"

The next moment, the pistol jerks upwards, and slowly it turns around until it is pointing at Gustavo's head. He looks at it, breathing hard, trying in vain to point it away. Pyrrha's eyes bore into his.

"Yes," she says. "Yes, I think I can. Now go away before I _make_ you go away."

The pistol goes flying, clattering on the floor. Gustavo stares wide-eyed at Pyrrha.

"She's a fucking _bruja_!"

Gustavo turns round, picks up his gun and hurries out of the door. Pyrrha turns back to the bar, checking behind her in the mirror. There is nothing. Next to her, Two-hands laughs.

"That's a good trick. Jedi mind control or what?"

"Polarity semblance," says Pyrrha. "Normally I'm more subtle with it, but it's been a rough few months."

Two-hands pulls out a pack of cigarettes, offers it to Pyrrha. She politely waves it away. Two-hands drops a crumpled banknote on he counter.

"This one's on me. And I won't even make you go down on me."

Bao straightens out the note and puts it in the till. Pyrrha pushes the beer over to Two-hands.

"Please. May I have a glass of water?"

Bao looks at Pyrrha for a long moment, then takes out a pint glass, puts ice cubes in, fills it from the tap, puts it in front of Pyrrha. She smiles, picks up the glass.

"Thank you," she says, and empties the glass in one long draught.

"You don't drink," says Two-hands, "You don't smoke. You don't fuck. Is your body a fucking temple or what?"

Pyrrha turns round and looks at Two-hands. " _Your_ body is very nice. But keep up what you're doing, and in just a few years, it won't be."

Two-hands takes a long drag on her cigarette, turning half of it to ash. She blows a cloud of smoke at Pyrrha.

"My lifestyle, it ain't the cigarettes and the booze that'll kill me." She grins. "May as well enjoy the ride."

Pyrrha looks into Two-hands' brown eyes, and she understands. Nods.

"Thank you for helping me," she says, holding out her hand. "Pyrrha Nikos."

"Revy," says Two-hands, ignoring it. "I wasn't helping you, dipshit. I just wanted to finish my drink."

Revy empties her glass, leaving the Beer of Conflict standing on the bar. She turns round to leave. After one step, she stops, sighs. Turns round.

"You got a place to stay?"

Pyrrha shakes her head.

"Got any money?"

"No."

Revy Two-hands rolls her eyes. Time was when she wouldn't even have asked. Time was when she would just have watched assholes like Gustavo pick up a girl like Pyrrha and never given it another thought. _Damn you, Rock_ , she thinks. Life was so much easier when she just didn't have any fucks to give. And then that fucking pussy walks in and _gives her some_.

"You wanna crash at my place for the night?"

"Please don't trouble yourself," says Pyrrha. "I'm a Huntress. I can always find something."

"No trouble," says Revy, kicking herself for it but unable to help herself. Revy Hood and her merry band of assholes. Damn you, Rock.

"In that case, yes please," says Pyrrha, and gets up.

"Come on then," says Revy. 

* * *

 

It's always the heat that wakes Revy up. The sun beating down on the roof, bright light hitting her eyes through the gaps in her blinds. She squeezes her eyes shut for a few more precious seconds of oblivion. Then, consciousness returns. This morning is different, though. A different smell from he usual cigarette smoke and old sweat. Coffee? Oh damn. Rock has come in to wake her up, which means that Dutch wants her for something. Revy raises herself.

"Sun's out, guns out." she mutters. "Fuck."

She looks round and stops. At her kitchen table sits a woman looking like she walked out of a Greek myth.

"Good morning Revy," she says, with a smile. "I've made coffee. I hope you don't mind."

Revy rubs her eyes, shakes her head to clear out the cobwebs.

"Who're you? We hook up or something?"

The woman pours her a cup of coffee, pushes it to her.

"Pyrrha," she says. "We met last night. In the Yellowflag bar. You offered me a space on your sofa. Thank you."

"Ah."

Revy finds a pack of cigs, pulls one out with her teeth. Her Zippo makes a metal sound as she lights it. She takes the coffee. Brain starts working again. She wanders round, gathers up her clothes. Crop top. Very very short shorts. Boots. Belt. Pyrrha's eyes follow her round the room. Revy looks back at her, finishes her coffee.

"You _sure_ we didn't hook up?"

Pyrrha laughs. "Positive."

"Got any plans for today?"

"Find a job," says Pyrrha. "Find a place to stay for a while. Save up some money. After that, who knows?"

Revy straps on her shoulder holsters. She doesn't remember firing her guns last evening, but then again, she doesn't remember _not_ firing them either. She checks. The clips are full. Quiet night, then.

"Plenty of jobs going round," says Revy. "What do you do?"

Pyrrha leans back in her chair, closes her eyes. "I hunt the Creatures of Grimm, and other enemies of Humanity. I died doing that. And now, I am here."

Revy nods. Enough people come to sunny Roanapur to start over. She did. Rock did. Even her boss Dutch. Roanapur, festering hellhole that it is, is a good place to start over. It's different from any place else. Worse than most of them. As long as you have skills, you can make a good living here. Revy looks Pyrrha over. She's pretty enough to start in one of Jackpot's strip clubs today, but she doesn't seem the type. Seen in the right light, she reminds Revy of Little Miss Chinglish - Shen-hua and her stupid kink for knives. Watching those two go up against each other could be fun.

"You willing to get your hands dirty?"

"I'm not afraid to fight, but I'm a defender, not an assassin."

"You only kill people who _really_ deserve it." Revy waves an arm at the city round her. "Well, you're in luck, Little Miss Precious. _Everybody_ here deserves to die." With practiced speed, Revy draws her guns and points them between Pyrrha's eyes. "Even me. _Specially_ me. These cutlasses haven't been idle, and I don't ask anyone if they're nice people before I shoot 'em."

Pyrrha looks at Revy's fingers. They are outside the trigger guards. Maybe she just doesn't want to get her apartment dirty. More than it already is. She feels the metal in the guns tugging at the core behind her breast bone, the seat of her Semblance. She reaches out with her hand, pushes the guns away, connects to them.

"Revy. I _have_ killed someone who really did not deserve it. I am not about to start killing again without a good reason. Some filthy little crime-lord asking me to, does not even come close."

"You don't scare easily," says Revy. She puts away her cutlasses. "I like that. C'mon. I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew. Maybe we'll need a little extra muscle sometime."

"You're very kind," says Pyrrha, and gets up. "Oh. Revy?"

Revy turns round on her way to the door. With her eyes still on Revy, Pyrrha lets her shield and spear jump into her hands, puts them on her back.

"I realise that for you, pulling out one of those guns is a kind of conversational punctuation, rather than an actual death threat. But..."

Before Revy can grab them, her guns fly out of their holsters, into Pyrrha's hands.

"If you ever, _ever_ point a weapon at me again." Pyrrha holds Revy's guns out to her, handles first. "I _will_ kill you." 

* * *

 

Lagoon Company has an office near the harbour. It is as clean and tidy as Revy's apartment is filthy. Revy walks in, points her thumb at Pyrrha.

"Hey Dutch! Got a job applicant here. She wants to kill people, but only if they really deserve it."

Dutch, a large, bald-headed, brown-skinned man, is making coffee. He flips the switch and turns round. "Better stay out of her way then, Revy."

"Don't I know it," says Revy.

Dutch holds out a hand to Pyrrha, who takes it.

"Dutch."

"Pyrrha Nikos."

"I hate to tell you, but I'm not really looking for a new crewman. We're doing all right just now."

A man stands up from the sofa, walks towards them. "We do have a delivery for the Ripoff Church. Sister Yolanda did warn us that we might be set upon by the wrathful, the avaricious, and the envious. Another pair of eyes, not to mention arms, wouldn't be bad." He gives Pyrrha a polite nod. "Rock."

"Pleased to meet you," says Pyrrha. Rock reminds her a little of her friend Lie Ren. His skin is the same colour, and he has the same sad kind look in his eyes.

Dutch gives a little grunt. "Miss, if there's one thing I hate, it's surprises. So before I let you anywhere near the boat, you ought to know. We'll be transporting weapons from an arms dealer to a bunch of mercenaries in the Archipelago. They're going to use 'em." Dutch' sunglasses flash at Pyrrha. "That bother you?"

"Beggars can't be choosers," says Pyrrha.

"I just don't want there to be any sort of mistake about what kinda company this is. We'll do just about anything for anybody. Sometimes, that means we end up helping decent people, but don't count on it. You got a problem with that, just turn around and walk away."

Pyrrha looks at the floor a few moments, then back into Dutch' eyes. "I'm alone here. I have no money, no place to stay, and I don't know the lay of the land. If I were to walk away now, I wouldn't get far. I'll give you no trouble, as long as you don't ask me to slaughter the innocent."

"Don't worry, sister!" Revy bumps her fist into Pyrrha's shoulder. "Means there's more innocent women and children left for me!"

"This is a two-day trip, out and back. How's five hundred dollars sound? Double if there's any fighting." Dutch grins. "Nothing if you get us all killed."

Revy leans on Pyrrha's shoulder. "Ask for double that. Dutch, stop tryin' to stiff her. She's an Amazon warrior. Those don't come cheap."

"You wouldn't say that if it was comin' out of your pay, Revy." He looks at Pyrrha. "Okay. I'll give you one thousand whether or not there's any fighting. How's that?"

Pyrrha briefly wonders whether a thousand dollars will buy her a house, or a glass of fruit juice. She looks at Rock, who smiles at her encouragingly, at Revy, who has an evil little chuckle, then at Dutch, who shows no expression at all. Pyrrha nods, holds out her hand.

"I accept," says Pyrrha.

"Sucker!" says Revy.

Dutch shakes Pyrrha's hand. "People? We just got ourselves a freelancer." 

* * *

 

Pyrrha carries one end of a crate on board, while Benny, the ship's radio operator, holds the other. It looks enough like honest hard work if you forget how many lives the contents of those crates will destroy. Pyrrha, Benny, Dutch and Rock are carrying crates while Revy lashes them tight inside against the movement of the sea. The lady from the Church leans against the van. Revy sticks her head above board.

"That's the last of them right?"

"Yeah," says the lady. She is wearing a rather severe black dress with an interesting kind of black-and-white headdress, which Pyrrha assumes is religious in nature.

Revy jumps over the railing and onto the dock. The Church lady sees Pyrrha.

"Hey Two-hands! You got a new girlfriend? That mean you won't get your panties all in a twist when I score Rock?"

Revy raises her middle finger. "Fuck you Eda. Got the money?"

Eda turns to Pyrrha. "Word of warning sweet thing. Revy likes to take it up the ass, so unless you're packing, better bring a strapon."

"I'll keep that in mind," says Pyrrha.

"I'll shove a fucking cutlass up _your_ ass if you don't hand over the money right now, Eda."

Eda opens the van door, pulls out an envelope.

" _Relax_ Two-hands! Render unto Ceasar what's Ceasar's, unto God what's God's, and unto little bitches what's little bitches'."

Eda holds out the envelope. Revy snatches it away, holds it up.

"Do I need to count this?"

"You mean you _can?_ It's all there, Two-hands. Thou shalt not bear false witness and all that crap. Now don't you have a cargo to deliver?"

Dutch walks up, takes the envelope from Revy and pockets it. They all get on board, Eda blows Rock a kiss, the engine starts, and a few minutes later, _Black Lagoon_ pulls out past the faceless Buddha statue. 

* * *

 

Pyrrha stands in the Crow's nest. The wind is in her face, blowing her hair behind her like a flag. She scans the horizon with a pair of binoculars. Nothing but seagulls and the occasional school of fish. It's a beautiful day. _Black Lagoon_ slices her way through the small waves, mixing the smell of sea air and petrol. She feels someone tap her leg, and looks down to see Rock. Pyrrha is not sure what he does on board. He looks more like a businessman than a pirate.

"Hey. You don't have to do this, you know? We have radar. Benny will see any ship coming towards us long before you do."

"I think I saw a whale blowing just now."

"Don't tell the Japanese," says Rock. He reaches into a cooler, pulls out a green metal can of drink and tosses it up to Pyrrha. Aluminum. Non-ferro metal.

"Thank you," says Pyrrha. She looks at the label. 'Heireken', it says. She pulls it open, tastes. It's foamy, fizzy, bitter. Beer. Pyrrha has never liked it much, preferring white wine or fruit juice. At least it's cool. She leans on the support, looks ahead. _Black Lagoon_ is headed North, with the sun right above her. Pyrrha finishes her beer, burps behind her hand, then climbs down to look for a trash can. Revy is sitting cross-legged on the bows, wreathed in smoke, staring ahead of her. Pyrrha walks up next to her.

"Is there a trashcan somewhere?"

Revy takes the beer can, tosses it over the side. Pyrrha raises an eyebrow.

"Habitat for marine life," says Revy.

"Drunk as a fish," says Pyrrha. 

 

Without any warning, _Black Lagoon_ speeds up, climbing up out of the water as her engines roar. They turn round as Rock comes walking up carrying an earpiece for both of them.

"Benny has spotted two vessels coming our way. Get ready."

Revy puts in her earpiece while Rock helps Pyrrha with hers.

"Dutchy boy." Revy looks to the East, one hand over her eyes. "Who's coming? I was working on my tan."

Dutch laughs in their earpieces. "Gonna have to wait, Two-hands. You ready to dance?"

"You know I am, Dutch. Point me at 'em and turn me loose."

"Three contacts," says Benny over the radio. "Changed course as soon as we sped up. Coming in from the East. They're hauling ass, too."

_Black Lagoon_ lunges to the West, making a great splash. It almost throws them.

"Gonna try to outrun them," says Dutch. "Get below. Nothing you can do up top right now except fall off."

They all go inside, and Revy walks right on through to the weapons locker. "Benny! What are these things? How far are they?"

"Small," says Benny. "Remember Luak? Looks like our new friend gets his boats where he did."

Revy walks onto the bridge carrying a long range anti-armor rifle and a pair of RPGs. " _Luak_? Didn't we kick his ass already?"

"Maybe it's his insurance company," says Dutch.

"They're gaining on us," says Benny. "Be on top of our heads in ten minutes unless we speed up."

"I'm not ditching the cargo," says Dutch. "Sister Yolanda'll bring the Wrath of God down on us. We'll take our chances with these jokers. Revy? They in sight yet?"

"On it!" Revy leaps up onto the ladder. 

 

A few moments later, there is the bang of Revy's rifle. Bullets whistle by left and right. Pyrrha turns round and sprints onto the deck, where Revy is shooting at one of the speed boats. Pyrrha hits the deck. Bullets ping off her shield as she crouches behind it.

"Hey! Get below deck, dipshit! What are you gonna do, wave your fucking spear at them?"

Pyrrha says nothing and holds her spear Miló away from her. With a few clicks, it transforms into its rifle form. She leans it on her shield, aims, fires. The bullets hit the windscreen of the nearest boat. It swerves, then returns to its course. Pyrrha turns her head round, grins at Revy.

"It's also a gun!"

Two of the boats catch up to _Black Lagoon_. Machine gun fire tears the air to pieces. Pyrrha feels the bullets hit her shield, fires back.

"They're going to board us!" she shouts.

"Not if I board _them_ first," says Revy.

She takes a run-up, drawing both her guns, and leaps impossibly far onto the other boat. Even in the middle of this fight, Pyrrha has to look at her. Bullets are flying at her, but Revy Two-Hands seems to leap away from them, knowing before the gunmen do when they are going to fire, and where. She starts firing with two guns at once. Every bullet hits. Every shot is fatal. She aims for the cabin, fires two guns at once till the boat veers away. In the last moment, just before Revy jumps back on board _Black Lagoon_ , Pyrrha turns cold, seeing the expression on Revy's face.

For the first time since Pyrrha met her, Revy is smiling.

For the first time, Revy looks _happy_. 

 

There is a noise behind Pyrrha, and she swerves round. A gun goes off, a bullet hits her in the side. Pyrrha's aura compensates, closes the wound. With all her strength, Pyrrha throws her shield at the gunman, hitting him in the throat with the sharp edge, just as he tries to leap on board. He falls into the water between the boats and is gone. Pyrrha switches Miló back to its sword form, charges. These men do not have aura. Every stroke bites. Before they can fire, Pyrrha is on them, striking at their arms, legs. Leaving them helpless but alive. Revy has no such compunction. She shoots to kill, even the ones that are already down. Revy kicks open the door to the wheelhouse, fires inside. There are screams, and Revy turns round, walks back. She nods her head back to _Black_ lagoon, and they leap. Revy grins at Pyrrha.

"Not bad, dipshit. Just don't-"

The boat lurches, and Revy and Pyrrha are almost thrown overboard. Revy holds Pyrrha by one arm. There is an explosion next to them, and a plume of water springs up. Revy keys her mike.

" _Dutch!_ What the fuck?"

"Just in case you haven't noticed, they're shooting at us."

"I know! I got 'em!"

Pyrrha looks back, points. "I think Mr. Dutch is talking about that boat."

Revy's eyes open wide. "Fuuuuuu..."

About a half mile away, a boat much like _Black Lagoon_ is following them. Unlike _Black Lagoon_ , it has a serious rapid-fire cannon at the front.

"That's a fucking _Oerlikon_! God dammit Dutch! I _said_ we needed one of those. What good have those stupid torpedoes ever done us?"

"Shooting down a helicopter was pretty damn ninja," says Dutch.

"Torpedo?" says Pyrrha. "We have a torpedo?"

The gunboat fires again. Dutch swerves out of the way. Only a few shells hit the deck, leaving ugly holes. Revy growls, grabs her rifle, fires a few rounds at the gunboat, without much effect. More 20-mm shells hit the deck, and Revy and Pyrrha jump back behind the bulkhead. Pyrrha fiddles with her microphone.

"Mr. Dutch? Revy says we have a torpedo."

"No use Miss Nikos. It's forward facing, and I'm not turning round."

"Mr. Dutch?" Pyrrha's jaw sets. "Could you arm the left back torpedo?"

Revy stares at Pyrrha. "You crazy bitch! What are you gonna do?"

"Be quiet. Mr. Dutch, I want a torpedo. Give me a torpedo."

There is a moment of hesitation. Dutch' voice sounds in their ears.

"Port aft torpedo is hot. Mind telling me what your plan is?"

Pyrrha stands up straight, ignoring the gunfire from their pursuer.

"I am going to throw it at them." 

 

Pyrrha calmly steps over to the torpedo tupe, lays her hand on it. There is a cracking noise, and the whole torpedo launcher parts ways with the boat. It floats up, slowly, majestically. Like a train out of a tunnel, the torpedo emerges. The launcher drops into the water with a big splash. Pyrrha firmly plants her feet on the deck, raises her hands. The torpedo turns round, floats up next to Pyrrha's shoulder. She looks at the gunboat, now maybe eight hundred yards away. Lowers her head, teeth bare.

Pyrrha screams, and her hand shoots forward. The torpedo shoots away, accelerating towards the gunboat, a few feet above the water, until finally Pyrrha drops her hand and the torpedo drops into the water. Its engine engages, and the projectile shoots out to the gunboat. The gunboat tries to swerve away, but too late.

The torpedo hits.

A massive explosion throws up the gunboat.

Other things inside the gunboat explode. Maybe fuel. Maybe ammunition. The boat breaks in two, sinks below the waves, leaving only a column of smoke.

Pyrrha drops to her knees, breathing hard. She slams her fist onto the deck to steady herself.

Revy stands next to her, mouth open. "Fffffuck... me!" She looks at Pyrrha. "Hey. You okay?"

Pyrrha takes deep breaths, gets to her feet.

"Yes, thank you. Just winded. I have not moved this much weight since my last big fight."

"Jesus..." Revy stares at the churning water where once was a gunboat trying to kill them. _Black lagoon_ slowly glides to a stop. "What _was_ your last big fight?"

Pyrrha's green eyes burn at Revy.

"I lost." 

* * *

 

It's amazing what two thousand dollars can buy you. Pyrrha now has a month in an apartment much like Revy's. Only clean. She has food in the fridge. Some less conspicuous clothes. A nine millimeter pistol in a shoulder holster. It's a good one. Revy helped her pick it. She keeps her weapons Miló and Akoúo̱ in a trunk at the bottom of her wardrobe. Rock and Revy have allowed her to tag along when visiting some of the big local players, but Pyrrha cannot imagine working for them, throwing herself behind their causes. It's like being in a place where the Creatures of Grimm have won, and turned into people. She will not stay here long, but she needs money to start a new life.

Every night, Pyrrha sits in her window and looks at the moon. A perfect disc of white light. She half expects it to start crumbling away, but that only happens in Remnant. Pyrrha Nikos, Huntress of Remnant, blinks away tears, whispers a name, once, and then never again. She takes off her clothes, lies down in the strange bed, on the strange world, under the strange unbroken moon, and sleeps. 


End file.
